


Personal

by sunaddicted



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: Okay. Deep breaths. That was everyone said to do when trying to fight panic off, right? Right.It was bullshit.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Numer prywatny](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9288377) by [bezPomyslu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bezPomyslu/pseuds/bezPomyslu)



> There's now available a Russian translation by the sweet @A_len_ka  
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/5125105
> 
> Thanks to @bezPomyslu there also is a Polish translation!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/9288377

_Personal_

Mycroft looked at the card, studied it, twirling it between his fingers as he inspected how light played on the smooth and clearly expensive square of paper that made him feel an array of disjointed emotions: confusion, flattery, amusement...

"Mycroft? Mycroft, are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, Gregory" Mycroft sighed, letting the card topple facedown on his desk and looked up at his husband with an apologetic smile on his face "I was distracted. What were you saying?"

Greg frowned: he knew that Mycroft was human - more than he let people believe - but his husband just didn't get... Distracted; he was always focused, even when juggling ten tasks at a time. Tenderly, he cupped Mycroft's cheek, thumb going to rub the edge of his cheekbone "Are you alright?" he asked, looking straight into the other's eyes in that silent way of his that asked for honesty.

A request Mycroft always obliged to.

He picked up the card again and gave it to Gregory "I believe I talked to you about her"

"Lady Smallwood, yes. I never quite understood whether you loathe or like her" Greg joked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere even as his digits pressed down hard on the paper, subtly smudging the ink as nervousness and dread expertly twisted his insides.

"She's pleasant to have around" Mycroft answered, diplomatically keeping his answer as neutral as possible "That's her personal number"

Okay. Deep breaths. That was everyone said to do when trying to fight panic off, right? Right.

It was bullshit.

"So.. you made a friend?" Greg said, still tentatively teasing.

Then Mycroft honest to God blushed.

 _Blushed_.

"She asked me out for drinks" Mycroft spat out awkwardly, heat blossoming in red splotches under the thin and fair skin of his cheeks "How the hell am I supposed to refuse her without compromising our working relationship?"

The words didn't immediately register in Greg's brain - the whiny tone did. With a relieved grin, he bent down and pecked Mycroft over the lips; it was a mighty effort abstaining himself from nipping at his plush lower lip, possessively reaffirming his right to be the only one to touch his husband "Do you trust me?"

* * *

 

To: Lady Smallwood  
From: Gregory Holmes-Lestrade

My husband and I will be delighted to have you over for drinks.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I never liked lady Smallwood - never never never. She better keep her wrinkly hands off of Mycroft.


End file.
